Saudade
by tripodion
Summary: It goes by many names. Aokigahara. Jukai. The Sea of Trees. Due to its infamy for the suicides that happen in the forest, SPR has been called to investigate, but what lies in the trees is far more terrifying than anything they could ever have imagined.
1. Sunset

The sunlight was warm.

It was a clear day, a beautiful day, which didn't seem fair to her. Today didn't feel any different. She didn't feel any different, but a sense of purpose pulsed through her. She finally had something to hold on to, that made her heart beat wildly in her chest with anticipation. She would go farther into the forest than ever before, farther than anyone. It was what she wanted.

The sky was green. A canopy of leaves and life draped itself like a blanket over the forest. The quiet was beautiful. She always loved the quiet. It never bothered her. It never asked anything from her. It was there to comfort her.

She had seen the signs when she entered the path. She had stared at them for a moment, at the words that tried to stop her, and then she moved on, into the trees. There was a sign strung up a few steps in, warning others not to enter the path it guarded because it lead into an unmanageable part of the forest. She lifted it up and walked underneath it.

There was no going back.

She traced the tape with her fingers. People left it to find their way back if they wanted to. If they weren't sure that what they were going to do was right. They had tape if they were hesitant.

She hadn't bothered to bring any. She knew it would be pointless.

She walked until the sun started to set. The trees began to come to life, stretching and bending in the growing shadows. It was almost time. She had planned this for months. Her whole life seemed like it was leading to this. She had known, she had always known that it would end like this. Why should she wait for ten or twenty or fifty years for it? It was her life, and she was going to do what she wanted with it. She had known, ever since she felt the weight in her bones, ever since the mud and soot had begun to fill her heart and her blood, that it would end like this.

She closed her eyes. Was there anyone that would miss her? Anyone that would care? It wasn't too late to find out...

She could flip a coin. But that was pathetic. Didn't she want this? Wasn't this the goal?

The fog pressed harder.

_You want this._

She stopped and whipped around, scanning the silent trees.

Someone had talked. Someone had spoken in this quiet evening. Were they watching her? Were they waiting?

"Who's there?" She called out.

Nothing.

She looked up at the tree in front of her. It was large and crooked, with thick branches that cast shadows like veins onto the ground. It was perfect.

She set her backpack on the ground and unzipped it, her hands grasping at her salvation. Once it was all ready, she sat down and scribbled something onto her notepad.

_We'll be waiting for you, you know. We can't wait to meet you._

She paused, setting the pen onto the pad. There was no questioning that someone had spoken, unless she was going crazy. But she had been doing that her whole life, hadn't she?

_You're just like us._

Shadows began to form in the trees as the sun faded. They pushed and pulled and squirmed like butterflies struggling to escape their cocoon. Her eyes widened as they split completely from the trees ahead of her.

This wasn't happening. She was dreaming.

_You're just like us._

She backed away, stumbling over a root that hadn't been there before.

_You're just like us._

She wanted to see her mother and have her hug her and tell her everything would be alright.

The shadows grew closer, forming corporeal shapes, forming...bodies?

_You're just like us._

The sunlight was warm.

* * *

><p>The next day, nearly a hundred miles away, a phone rang.<p>

"Shibya Psychic Research Center."


	2. Hasutaberu

_"Then some one said, 'We will return no more;'_

_And all at once they sang, 'Our island home_

_Is far beyong the wave; we will no longer roam.'"_

**"The Lotos-Eaters" - Alfred Lord Tennyson**

* * *

><p>She opened her eyes to the blurred figure of a boy—no—a man dressed in all black. Everything else was a shaking, blinding white, like she had stared into the sun for too long and looked away.<p>

"Am—" Her voice was brittle, cracked and dry like a barren salt flat. "Am I—"

"Dead?" He finished. His voice was calm and cool, a dark room in the summer. "Fortunately, no. Or unfortunately for you, rather, since you seem disappointed about it." The chair he was sitting in creaked as he leaned forward. "Tell me what you're feeling."

It wasn't a question. She closed her eyes.

"I feel like I just swallowed a handful of ashes." She said hoarsely. "I feel—I feel pain, but it's not normal pain. It's…it's darker than normal. It's heavier."

"It shouldn't be. You didn't break or sprain anything." He said, looking at what must be her doctor's prognosis and she turned to him, her eyes shining sadly.

"It's in my soul."

"Tell me what happened, in the forest."

There it was again, the question that wasn't a question.

"If you ask nicely," She croaked, "I'll tell you."

Someone near the doorway stifled a laugh.

"Mai, don't you have_ anything_ better to do?" The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Try and find some tea or something."

"Alright, jerk." The woman huffed, and left the room.

She watched her leave and turned back to the man in black.

"Who are you? Why are you asking about the forest? Am I in trouble?"

"I'm a member of SPR, a paranormal research institute. We were hired by a private client to investigate the forest where you were found half-dead and as far as trouble goes, with us I should say not, but I can't say the same for your parents."

"My…parents…oh no." She buried her face in her hands and felt a small tug. She glanced down to where a catheter was hooked, a clear liquid running through it.

"They're waiting outside the room for you. That's an intravenous hydration line." He said, motioning to the catheter. "It pumps electrolytes—salts—into your blood. From what I understand, you were carted in here suffering from delirium and dehydration. The attending doctor said you kept talking about shadows."

She winced and shuddered, as if her body was trying to rid itself of the memory.

"Tell me what happened." He said, then, upon catching her annoyed expression, he added an irritated "Please."

"I went into the forest during the daytime. I must have walked until evening, just when the sun was setting. I didn't want anyone to find me, see. I didn't want anyone to know…"

She bit her lip and stared at her hands, unable to bring her gaze up.

"Why?"

"Sorry?"

"Why did you do it? You're going to have to have an answer for your parents anyways."

"I'm 23, a_ legal_ adult. I don't need to give a reason."

"That's all fine, but I'm just not convinced that you had one in the first place."

The girl from earlier was right. This guy was a jerk.

"Even if I did, and I do, I don't need to tell you."

"What if I told you that I believed you?" The man asked with dark eyes. "That those shadows you saw were real?"

"You wouldn't be interested…people don't like to listen to crazies."

"Perhaps…but there's still meaning in the words of a madman."

"Who said that?"

"I did, just now. You don't know me, but my job is to make a living off crazy theories." He said, a ghost of a smirk passing over his face. "And, contrary to what you may think, I've heard far more preposterous stories."

"Are you a skeptic?"

"More like an opportunist."

"You're making money off _this_?" She asked incredulously, indicating her catheter.

"Not by you directly, no. And the money is half the point. Why you walked into that forest is one thing, but I want to know what happened in there and why you were so special that you got out."

"I just…I just remember voices. But I didn't hear them. I felt them."

His silent stare urged her to continue. There was something coldly clinical about him, like he was made of the cloying essence of the antiseptic that perfumed the hospital halls. There was something…off about him. Like he truly didn't understand why she had gone into Jukai in the first place. Like he would never understand.

"It's like when you read dialogue in a book and you don't have a face or voice to go with the words, so you make one up. I heard someone else's words in my head, in their voice, but it _wasn't_ in my head…do you understand?"

"Vaguely."

"Hasutaberu." Someone spoke from the doorway. The woman from earlier was back, with a Styrofoam cup in each hand.

"Sorry?"

"Hasutaberu." The woman—Mai, was it?—repeated, walking in.

"I don't understand." She said.

"Mai," The man sighed, "If you're going to confuse anyone today, please go to another room."

"Here's your tea, jerk." Mai answered, handing him a cup. "And I don't see what's so confusing.

"What you just said—"

"Hasutaberu."

"Right. That isn't a word."

"Coming from someone whose first language isn't Japanese." She said slyly, sipping at her tea before hissing. "Ow, that's hot—"

"Tell me, oh wise Mai, what it means then."

"You know, you don't always have to talk to me in that tone."

"Mai."

That tone Mai just mentioned had grown sterner. He must be her boss or superior of some kind…but they acted so casual. They must be close friends…

"Well, '_hasu_' means 'lotus' and '_taberu_' means 'to eat', so it's basically another way of saying 'the Lotus-Eaters'."

"Of course…" The man muttered. Calmness had settled over his face, but she could tell his mind was racing.

"What are the Lotus-Eaters?" She asked, and both turned to her.

"They're mentioned in _The Odyssey_ by the Greek poet Homer, one of the most popular works of literature in Western culture." The man answered. "Are you familiar with it?"

"Only a little."

"Well, I'll abridge it as much as I can. Essentially, it's the travels of the Greek hero Odysseus as he heads home after the Trojan War to his wife and son. Of course, everything goes wrong and it takes him ten years to get back to Ithaca, where he lives. On the way back, he and his crew are blown off course and they land on an island. Odysseus sends three men to scout it for supplies, and he learns that they have met the Lotus Eaters, a tribe that fed them lotuses, which cause them to forget where they were from, where they were going, everything, and Odysseus is forced to leave them behind."

"What does that have to do with the Jukai?" She asked. "The Trojan War was centuries ago, and it's not like Greece is next door or anything…"

"My father is a paranormal researcher as well, and one of his studies involved a local area near our house known as Blackfriar's Wood." He saw her confused expression and added "I grew up in England."

"It confused all of us too, don't worry." Mai told her with a kind smile. Her being here made her feel better, more relaxed.

"_Anyways_," He said through his teeth. "My father looked into the area and found that, like Jukai, it was a popular suicide spot. Why exactly either of these areas are what they are, I have no idea; maybe it's just the remoteness of it all, but in its entire history, only a handful of people ever made it out of the wood after they went in. When they came out, they were found rambling about shadows and voices they couldn't hear. Most were dismissed as insane, but my father managed to interview one of them, a man named Argall. He said that from the point Argall entered the forest to when he was interviewed he couldn't remember anything about himself or his family. Not a thing."

"I still don't see what any of this has to do with me. I know my name and that I have parents and two brothers."

"Do you?" He asked. "Tell me your name."

She stared at him in confusion.

"Tell me your name."

"I—this is crazy—"

"Tell me your name."

"I don't know!" She said suddenly. Her heart pounded in fear. Surely this was just a momentary lapse. She was tired, dehydrated…once she rested—

"I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest." The man said calmly. "Your parents aren't waiting for you outside."

"What?"

"Your parents died nearly ten years ago. You've been under the care of your grandparents since then. It's been five years since you walked into the Aokigahara Forest. Whatever you saw there wiped your memory. You don't have any siblings. You're 27 years old."

"No, no I'm not—"

"You won't remember my face or Mai's when you wake up tomorrow." He said, lifting his bag onto his shoulder.

"Why?" She whispered. "Why are you so sure?"

He stopped at the doorway and turned to her.

"You never do."


	3. Lines

_"Courage!" he said, and pointed toward the land,  
>"This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon."<em>

"The Lotos-Eaters"- Alfred Lord Tennyson

* * *

><p>"You look worried."<p>

He looked up from his untouched cup of tea, steam still curling up.

"Pardon?"

"You look worried." Mai repeated. "You shouldn't be, though. We got farther with her today than we ever have."

After seeing the girl, they had come to the near-empty hospital cafeteria, which was decorated nicely but still couldn't contain the bleak, detached atmosphere that came with medical care. A small folder lay open in front of Mai.

"You're still not going to tell us who our client is?" She asked.

"No."

"You realize how unfair you're being, right?"

"I do. But it's my right as your boss to withhold information that I don't think you need to know."

"You don't think we need to know who it is? Why?" Her eyes shone with a liveliness that he envied. "Is it someone famous?"

"And if it was?"

"It _is_?"

"If it _was_? Would that make any difference?"

"I suppose not."

"One thing baffles me about this, though." She looked at him and he continued. "Why did she get out?"

"Don't you mean how?"

"You know as well as I do that this whatever is in that forest is most likely a sentient being, Mai. I mean why. Why did it let her leave?"

"Maybe it felt like being nice."

He stared at her and sighed. "No one ever just _feels_ like being nice. It's usually for profit or gain of some kind. Every action has motive."

"That's not entirely true. I don't want anything from people and I do it all the time."

"You may be the only human exception, then."

"Is that why you are what you are?"

"Pardon?"

"You're never 'just nice' for no reason. Is it because you don't want anything from anyone?"

"Probably. And being the way I am is far easier than the burden of acting like I give two damns about unimportant things."

"I like it that way. It makes the nice things you do memorable."

"Indifference is not exactly an admirable trait, Mai. And furthermore, if you don't expect reward from people, why do you bother being kind to them?"

"Well...when you grow up like I did, you learn not to expect much of anything from anyone. You usually just have yourself. If people are just kind for reward, then what kind of world is that?" She shrugged, staring into her tea where the dregs were settling to the bottom. "

"Look at us." He smirked and she looked up. "Having discussions on morality in the hospital cafeteria."

"Well, I suppose someone has to." She said, smiling. He stared at her for a moment before reaching across and taking the folder, his eyes raking over the details.

"We've got to be exceptionally prepared for this case." He said, examining a few photographs. "That girl upstairs went into Jukai with all her memories and came out little more than a conscious, walking coma. To say this thing will be dangerous is an understatement."

"And you still won't tell us who hired us?" She asked and his gaze told her to drop the subject. "Alright fine. Let it be said now that I don't want to end up a Lotus-Eater."

"I—how did you know about that anyways?"

"What, I can't know these things?"

"No, you can, but usually I'm the one with the useful information."

"The teacher in English mentioned it last week."

"Well that's a relief. I knew you weren't that culturally educated."

"Shut up."

"It is a testament, though, that you remembered a fleeting detail, even after a week."

"Was…was that a compliment?"

"Did it sound like one?"

"Sort of." She said, scrunching up her nose. "But those are hard to come by from you, so I'll just keep the status quo." She got up to refill her cup, missing the fleeting look on his face.

He turned his gaze to anything else, to a passing nurse that was wheeling a patient past Mai, who leaned back to avoid them, smiling kindly.

It just didn't make sense.

Why did this girl upstairs live? Why wipe her memory, but keep her alive? To tease the crowd? He would have to talk to his father later, and get more facts about Blackfriar. Maybe there were others like Argall and this girl, who simply didn't remember the forest. There must be. These things simply didn't happen…yet his line of work proved that yes, they certainly did. It was too early to rule the illogical out.

He also knew he couldn't keep their client in hiding for long. The group would get antsy if things didn't go to plan or if they weren't getting the results they wanted. They would want answers that he wasn't sure they could handle. But for now, it was his sole burden to bear.

"Do you think it was right to lie to her?"

He looked up at Mai as she sat down.

"The girl?" He clarified and she nodded. "Well it's not like she's actually going to remember."

"You made her believe her parents were still alive." She said quietly. "And I know that she won't remember tomorrow, but for the rest of today, which will feel like years to her, she's going to have to deal with an emotional crisis."

"It happened ten years ago, Mai, she can't still be upset about her parents—" He stopped at the look on her face.

"When do we have to meet up with the team?" She asked.

"Not for another hour." He said, allowing the change of subject. He could hardly blame her; it had been an incredibly callous thing for him to say. Of course she was still hurting about her parents. She had every right to be after what happened. And, concerning Gene, it wasn't like he was one to talk.

"What are we going to do until then?"

"I need to make some calls."

"To your dad?"

"How—yes."

"I can tell you've been thinking about it since we were upstairs." She said, smiling softly as she sipped her tea.

"It was that obvious?"

"Well not really, but you get this_ face_ when you're thinking about them."

"What face might that be?"

"It's kind of a combination of serious and distant, really very similar to your normal face—"

"Wonderful."

"—But there's little differences."

"I suppose it's just a mark of our friendship that you can tell."

"Or I can read your mind."

He looked at her and smirked. "Yes, because psychic latency is known to morph into telepathy overnight."

"It could happen."

"Very well. Tell me what I'm thinking."

She leaned forward and stared at him for a moment. Her eyes were lighter today, he noted silently. A dusty whiskey color.

"You're wondering if your dad will put your mum on the phone, and if he does, what you'll say to her that won't be embarrassing if anyone is listening."

For a moment, a brief blink, he truly believed that she had read his mind before logic took over.

"How did you know?"

She smiled.

"You always drum your fingers when you're dealing with your parents. At least when I've seen you on the phone with them you do."

"So you spend your day watching your boss? That's neither healthy nor professional."

She smiled, but didn't answer, and stood.

"We should get back. Your mum is probably waiting on the other end of the line."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Reviewing really does make me write faster; it lets me know people care about this story. Cheers!<strong>


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